


Fancy

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 13:04:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4138632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The finer things in life aren't always the better things in life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fancy

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt "Everyone assumes Arthur is extremely uptight about order & quality. So when Ariadne & he start dating, she gets worried about things like accidentally spilling liquid on his files, or only being able to get McDonalds' coffee or whatever. Arthur however turns out to be far less exacting than imagined: His physical notes are ruined? He has them backed up online. MaccyD's coffee? Fine, black with one sugar is great. And so on. How far this goes (up to & inc. sexually :) ) is up to you."

Arthur wore Zegna suits, Rolex watches and some kind of shoe that looked as though it had been handmade rather than bought off a shelf somewhere. He quite obviously preferred to use Moleskine notebooks, Montblanc pens, bleeding edge laptops and a leather bag to hold all of his belongings in. Ariadne didn't recognize the make and model, and thought it would be creepy if she asked him about it. They'd gone on a few dates, and they were perfectly ordinary things, not the uber-fancy kinds of restaurants that she thought he would go for. Café fare didn't bother him, though art galleries were hardly hole in the wall dives either. How would he feel if she splattered him with something by accident? Or got spots on his silk ties?

Ariadne was a fan of thrift store chic, and often moved with wide gestures and flair. Her classmates always said she had an innate _joie de vivre,_ but that didn't mean that she paid attention to the condition of her clothes all the time. Sometimes wood shavings, bits of glue or paint got caught on her clothes when building mock ups, her hands were full of calluses and nicks, and she didn't care if her boots were scuffed as long as they were comfortable. It mattered more to her to be valued for her mind, for her skills to be recognized. She didn't want to be seen as the tits and ass in the classroom, and pushed to be seen for what she could add intellectually to a project. Later, if she worked full time in a architectural firm, she would care more about her appearance. Right now, her concern was more to make ends meet. She still remembered the hand to mouth struggle of being a college student, living off of ramen noodles and endless bologna and cheese or Spam sandwiches. Grad school was a step up, but not by a lot. Arthur looked too put together to have lived so hardscrabble. He wore his expensive clothes and used his fancy items like he was born to money.

Honestly, it was intimidating.

She tried dressing up for their dates, and Arthur positively lit up at the sight of her. They went dancing and out to clubs, then dinners at four star restaurants in trendy parts of cities all over the world. Ariadne tried to do her homework on places so she wouldn't feel like a country bumpkin, but didn't stop her from feeling out of her league. They were taking things slow, so other than sultry kisses and awesomely heavy petting, there hadn't been sex yet. On the one hand, Ariadne was disappointed; sex with Arthur would no doubt be stellar, if his toe-curling kisses were any indication. On the other hand, he didn't have to see her plain cotton underwear and cheap bras that didn't match. He wouldn't have to judge her on her limited experience. If she couldn't be perfect at this the way she was with her mazes, would he still be interested?

She didn't know for sure, so she didn't push the issue.

***

They were working on a job in Holland where he requested that she work as the architect. On their first morning in the city, Ariadne grabbed herself a cheap straight black coffee from the hotel breakfast bar. On her way to their workspace it occurred to her that Arthur might appreciate a morning coffee too, especially given his habitual early starts. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized she had virtually no idea of how Arthur took his coffee, let alone any brand preference he might have. He was bound to have one, and she could hardly duck into the nearest convenience store then present him with their Nescafe made with powdered milk substitute, could she? Just imagining him holding the cup between his fingertips, catching the scent of it and that faint, disapproving wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows made her want to cringe. So, trying desperately to be nice and imaging what might meet his standards, she snagged an expensive coffee from the café down the street from their meeting place. 

As she shrugged out of her jacket in their rented office, Arthur beamed and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before catching sight of the two cups set on her desk.

"Oh, coffee. You're a life saver. The subject has at least a dozen different dummy corporations that I need to go through." He snagged the black coffee, leaving her with the fancy latte. "Thanks."

She blinked in surprise as he took a huge gulp and then went back to the stacks of financial paperwork in front of him. "You're welcome," she said, taking a cautious sip of the latte. Might as well taste what the fancy stuff was like. Preparing to be transported to coffee heaven, she braced herself only to discover it was warm, milky coffee.

 _What was the big deal for this?_ Ariadne wondered as she took another sip. Glancing over she watched Arthur reach for his cup and take a slow, grateful mouthful of hotel coffee without looking up from his work for a moment.

***

Arthur suggested a dive bar that night for drinks and a light dinner, and Ariadne nearly gaped at him. "What? No fancy restaurant?" she blurted.

"I could if you want," he replied with a shrug. "We don't have to do that all the time, do we?"

"I thought you liked that stuff," Ariadne said in confusion.

"It's a nice change," he said. "But I'm in the mood for a burger and fries tonight. How about you?" he asked, pulling her close.

"I could go for a bacon double cheeseburger," she admitted with a smile.

He grinned and gave her a toe-curling kiss. "Sounds like a date."

Ariadne arrived at the bar first, taking a seat at a tiny rickety table set with nothing more ornate than a tea light in a glass and ordering a beer. She dressed in short sleeves and a scarf tied at her throat in case the warm night turned chilly. She kept a watch on the door, although Arthur in a place like this would stand out like a sore thumb so she was hardly likely to miss him. She had just taken a long sip of her beer when she finally caught sight of him, and all but choked in surprise. Arthur was strolling towards her across the bar in faded jeans and a band T shirt, appearing like every other hipster in the city. If not for recognizing his face, she might have missed him completely.

He greeted her with a peck on the cheek, and sat down opposite her, half smiling at her as looked at him and distractedly toyed with the edge of her scarf. "You know, I wasn't aware you even owned jeans," she said lightly.

Snorting, he gestured for the server to come take their orders. "I dress more formally for work. It sets the stage for clients."

"And our dates?"

"It was pretty impressive, wasn't it?" he teased, fingers brushing against her palm.

Their next two dinners were both at fairly upscale places in the city, and Ariadne wanted to test out whether or not he'd be agreeable with slumming it after all. They met in the park near lunchtime, and to her shock he was just as amenable to the dirty water hot dogs and pretzels from a nearby eatery as the five star restaurant a few blocks away that she had read about in Fodor's. He drank soda straight from the can and didn't mind the smear of mustard at the corner of his mouth. It didn't drip onto his sixty dollar silk tie, of course, but Arthur didn't seem overly concerned that it might.

"I don't get it," Ariadne blurted. "I thought you'd never go for these things."

"What? Why?" he asked, brows pulling together in thought.

"Well... Because..." Her hands fluttered in front of her, gesturing at his entire ensemble. "You're so put together and elegant all the time. It doesn't seem like your style."

"Because I like nice things?"

"But it's not just nice things, is it? You are so organized, so put together, always in control of everything... The rest of us mortals just can't keep up with you!"

"I can afford it now," Arthur said quietly. Ariadne got the feeling this was a sore topic; they hadn't really gone into much detail about their pasts, and perhaps they should have. "If I can afford some nice things, I might as well get it. Plus, they're more reliable."

"What?" Ariadne scoffed. "Coffee is coffee and food is food."

His lips curled into a sexy smirk. "Really? So if we were in the US and it was down to a Dunkin Donuts coffee or a Starbucks..."

"Dunkin's, hands down," she replied promptly.

Arthur laughed. "For some things, it's expensive to be poor." At her startled expression, he leaned in a little closer to explain. "Sometimes it's worth it to spend more up front. My coat is a Burberry, and I've had it for ten years. I've gotten cheap ones, where I have to replace them every year or two. So over the course of ten years, I'd have paid for more than the Burberry. Or the watch," he said, shaking his wrist. "This is the same one I saved up for and bought myself when I got out of the military. Other than changing the battery once, it's been dependable and works as well as when I bought it. Cheap ones are made to be replaced frequently. So it would add up to more money over time."

"Oh." Ariadne sounded chastened.

"Did you think I was some kind of snob?" he asked in amusement.

"Maybe a little. Like I'm out of my league, here."

Arthur pulled her in for a kiss, heady and sweet, his tongue sliding into her mouth. "You're definitely not out of my league, Ariadne. You knew that from the very beginning. I've just been going slow so I don't scare you away."

"You? Scare me?" she scoffed. "I don't scare easily, you know."

"Things have been pretty easy so far. But sometimes this can be really dangerous, and the men out there won't care what you do or how pretty you are."

"You think I'm pretty?" she asked, a teasing lilt to her voice.

"Gorgeous," Arthur corrected with a smile. "Shall I prove it to you?"

"Oh? How do you propose to do that?"

"I'm in a dinky motel close to the office building this time around. It's a small double bed, but we should still be able to share."

"I can't imagine you in a dinky motel," Ariadne confessed. "I would imagine a suite in some big name hotel."

"Usually I try for those," he admitted. "Better security and more exits if I'm in trouble. But this was the closest place to the office, and I figured I didn't need as much security this time around. The background work is a headache, but the job itself should be easy."

"So what did you have in mind?" Ariadne asked, lips quirking into a smile.

It turned out to be visiting his motel room, actually a little dowdier than her own, and winding his arms around her and kissing her within an inch of her life. His tongue swept into her mouth, tasting her, the taste of mustard and pretzels still on his lips. Ariadne was delighted when his hands traveled down her back to cup her ass and pull her closer. Her hands slid down from his shoulders to his chest, and she started pulling at his tie. "This needs to come off."

"And your shirt," he suggested, grinning. "If I take off something, you need to also."

"Deal."

It was a slow striptease, skin shown only a little at a time. It wasn't something Ariadne was used to, but it was surprising how much that heightened her anticipation. She knew the shape of his body and how he used it as a weapon, how gentle he could be when with her. But suddenly, the fancy clothing he clothing was more like armor, like a shell. The real Arthur was buried somewhere beneath it, lying in wait for the one he trusted to see him as he truly was, not as he wanted the world to see him. She understood suddenly what this meant, why he seemed so uptight while on a job. He wanted it to seem that way. He had a professional reputation, one that preceded him, one that opened doors and shut others. An Arthur that was more casual was for personal consumption, something just for her.

She let her eyes travel across his bare skin when they were both naked, their surroundings so much less important than it had seemed to be before. It was a strangely intimate kind of situation, and she didn't feel self conscious at all.

Without really thinking about what she was doing, she walked right up to Arthur and pulled his head down for a kiss. His arms looped around her and he lifted her up easily, making her clutch onto him tightly out of fear of falling. She didn't, he would never let her fall, but she overbalanced him and he staggered backward toward the bed. Ariadne licked into his mouth, let her hands roam all across the exposed skin wherever she could reach.

Once they were on his bed, she shifted to kneel on all fours beside him. Whenever possible, she balanced her weight on her elbows so she could touch him, raking her nails lightly across his skin as she kissed and nipped and licked, until she reached his cock and took him into her mouth. In the meantime, he had his hands roaming across the backs of her thighs, the curve of her ass, then fingering the folds between her spread thighs. Still, it was wonderful to hear the deep, throaty groan as she swirled her tongue across the head of his cock. _Mine,_ she thought dizzily, wondering how they could do this dance without even speaking. They simply moved and adjusted pace and rhythm based on breathing.

Ariadne licked and sucked at Arthur, grinning when he groaned and had to grasp the bed to keep from clutching at her head. She wanted him to lose control, to unravel at her touch, and here it was. Arthur shattered as she sucked hard, caressing his chest and stomach with one free hand. Swallowing his come, she knelt beside his sprawled form. He reached for her, goofy smile changing after a moment. "Hey. You didn't."

Ariadne shook her head and pulled his hand back between her legs. "Nope. You've got quite a bit of work to do. And if you do really well, I might climb up top and give you the ride of your life."

Arthur laughed, eyes lighting up in delight. "Will you now?"

"Earn it," she told him cheekily.

"Think you're that good?" he teased in return.

"Oh, I _know_ I am."

She gasped as he slid his fingers inside her. "Yes," he murmured, lips curling into a lazy smile. "I think you are, too."

He brought her to climax twice with his fingers before his cock was ready again. At that point, he got up himself and shifted her body until she was kneeling at the side of the bed and he was standing there, cock erect and ready for one of the condoms from the bedside table. Her mouth practically watered at the sight of him, ready and eager to slide into her. "Now," he murmured, still smiling lazily at her. "We're both going to enjoy this."

Oh, yes, they were.

The End


End file.
